TwentyFour Little Hours
by Severusgirl
Summary: The final battle rages. Hermione is captured & thrown in a cell, only to be joined a short while later by Snape. They have to endure unknown hours in each others company until the ultimate battle ends & their fates decided. COMPLETED.
1. Unconscious thoughts

**TWENTY-FOUR LITTLE HOURS**

**9am-11am** - Hermione groaned. Every part of her body ached and her head was spinning. What on earth had happened? 

She opened her eyes and found herself staring up at a ceiling that was far too high. There was a shaft of milky sunlight shining across the ceiling from a barred window way, way up. 

She screwed up her eyes, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. 

Tentatively she pulled herself up to a sitting position and opened her eyes again. 

A narrow iron bed; One pillow; One blanket, so moth-eaten she wouldn't give it to a dog; A table; large jug and bowl; a wooden goblet. That was it. Otherwise the room was bare...oh, what was that she'd missed in the corner? 

She peered at it. 

Oh, lovely. A piss-pot. 

It dawned on her. 

She was a prisoner. 

And now things began to come back in to her memory. 

The battle between light and dark, good and evil, Harry and Voldemort raged somewhere outside. 

She'd been caught. A spell fired from behind. Now where was she? 

She at still and listened, but heard nothing. The silence was so complete, she was either alone or a silencing spell was on the room. 

She shivered. It was so cold in here. 

Voldemort had caught them off guard. Struck in the middle of the night. She'd had no time to change out of her night things. She wore just a dark green singlet with matching shorts. Not very practical for battle, but changing her clothes hadn't been a priority as Voldemort and his Death Eaters had stormed Hogwarts. 

She wondered what had happened to everyone else. Harry, Ron, Ginny...everyone. Were they all still alive? 

The question, and its possible answers, sent bile rising to her mouth. She stood, unsteady, and walked to the table. The jug at least held water. She poured some into the wooden goblet and drank. 

She let out a scream and dropped the goblet as the door to her cell crashed against the wall. Instantly the air was filled with screams and cries from outside. Obviously, she was not alone. 

Unseen hands hurled a body at her. 

She ran to the door, but it was slammed shut before she even reached it, the lock clanking back forcefully, leaving her in silence again. 

Exasperated, she leaned her head against it, taking deep breaths to calm her frustration and turmoil. Here she was trapped while her friends were fighting the most important battle in wizard history. She felt so helpless, so inadequate. 

Slowly she turned to look at the heap of rags that now lay sprawled on the floor of her cell. 

She couldn't see a face, but she would recognise that hair anywhere. 

"Professor Snape!" she gasped. 

**11am-1pm** - There was pain, he knew that. His head in particular felt split and surely there was blood. There was also a pain in his ribs, on the left side, whenever he breathed. He tried to temper the breathing, make it as shallow as possible in an attempt to lessen the pain. 

Then he opened his eyes. 

Then opened them wider. 

A vision before him! 

A rather attractive female with a gorgeous mane of corkscrew curls, was bending over him, running her hands over his body. Gravity had pulled her green top away from her body, giving him a fantastic view of a wonderful cleavage and equally wonderful breasts. 

Despite his pain, he felt a stirring in his groin and saw no reason not to let it develop - she was, after all, ravaging him. 

He moaned with arousal. 

She looked up. 

Lovely hazel eyes, long dark eyelashes, pink apple cheeks smeared with dirt, and a very sexy full bottom lip. What was this exquisite creature doing, fondling his body? 

She was speaking. 

"...essor, do you have a handkerchief?" 

Mmmmmm, she was more upright now and her top had returned to her body. He could see her nipples sticking out in hard peaks under the cloth. 

"My...pocket," he managed a guttural stutter. 

"Which one - in your cloak?" 

"No...trousers." 

Ye gods! Her hand was inside his trouser pocket, travelling towards his erection. It twitched in anticipation. 

She gave a little yelp and removed her hand, complete with white handkerchief. 

"I'll...I'll just get some water." She turned away without looking at him, but he could see she was red to the roots. 

It hurt his chest to turn and watch her, but it was worth it. Just look at that tight bottom, barely covered in those shorts, and her legs....they went up to heaven. 

He groaned again, his hand moving to his aching groin, wishing she'd come back and start ministering him again. 

In answer to his prayers, she did. 

"This might hurt a bit." 

Mmmmm, go ahead...why would he worry about that..? 

He hissed violently as the cold wet handkerchief was placed gently on his head, sending a stinging pain through his scull. 

Well, that had killed the excitement. 

"Sorry, Professor. I had to stem the flow of blood. You've got a nasty cut on the side of your head." 

'Professor'? 

He frowned. 

Oh! Yes, of course. 

And this was..? 

He looked up at her, as reality came back to him. 

...um? Granger. Hermione Granger. 

He closed his eyes again and sighed with relief. 

_That _had been close. 

_Very _close. 


	2. When but not why

**Chapter Two**

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**WHEN BUT NOT WHY**

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**1pm-2pm**

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****She looked at him, concerned. 

"Professor, it's Hermione Granger...try to focus on me, Sir. Do you know who I am?" 

He nodded and opened his eyes. 

"Yes, Miss Granger, I _know_ who you are. Help me to sit, would you..." 

She helped him up so that his back leaned against a wall, holding the handkerchief to his head all the time. 

"What happened to you?" 

"I was returning to the castle. I could see frantic activity through a few of the windows." He relieved her hold on the handkerchief and brought it down to glance at it - it was quite red with blood. "Unfortunately, I under-estimated how many of his followers there would be. I was about to deal with two of them when I saw in a window the reflection of Lucius Malfoy behind me. Before I could turn, he attacked..." 

"I don't know exactly how many _followers_ there were, but at least eight Death Eaters and Voldemort..." 

"_Miss Granger!"_ He grimaced. "Do you mind? I am in enough discomfort without you adding to it by speaking that name." 

"I'm sorry...I forgot. Lucius Malfoy hit you with a _Caducus _stunning spell, I think." 

"Why do you say that?" 

"The _Caducus _can cause temporary confusion as it wears off and you didn't seem to know who I was for a moment..." 

He certainly hadn't, she thought. Who the hell had he confused her with, to have such an obvious...and embarrassing...physical reaction? All she'd been doing was going through his pockets, trying to find a handkerchief or _something _to stem the flow of blood on his head. It had been unnerving to see her normally imperturbable Potions Master lying helpless on the ground, without witnessing _that_ particular bodily reaction. 

She felt her cheeks go warm. It had just accentuated her recent awakening to the fact he wasn't just a teacher - he was also...a man. 

She knew _when _it had happened, but not _why_. 

A few months ago, during the first Potions class after the Easter break, Snape had been doing the rounds, inspecting the steaming cauldrons of each class member. When he reached hers, he had leaned over her shoulder to peer into her cauldron and her hair had somehow caught on a button on his tunic. As he turned to go, she gave a yelp of pain as her hair was wrenched at the roots. Then followed the most excruciatingly embarrassing fifteen seconds or so, while he released the hair from the button, with scathing advice to _'tie it back or get it cut_'. 

She hadn't thought much else about it - apart from the embarrassment - until a couple of nights later when Ginny had started up that ridiculous conversation: 

"If you _HAD _to sleep with one, which Slytherin would you choose?" 

Around the group, Ginny, Parvati, Lavender, had _all _in one voice and without hesitation said, 

"Malfoy!' 

Hermione had stared at them in amazement. 

"_Malfoy? _You can't be serious?" 

"Well, who else is there? Goyle?" said Lavender. 

"Ewwww!" screamed Parvati and Ginny, drumming their feet on the floor. 

"Imagine having _that _puffing and panting on top of you!" said Ginny. 

"Well, come on, Hermione - who else is there apart from Malfoy?" 

"None. I wouldn't touch any of them with a ten-foot wand." 

"Nooo...that's not the game. If you _HAD _to, which one would it be?" 

Hermione's mind had all of a sudden locked onto that moment when her hair had caught on Snape's button. How, in the task of untangling it, she had been pulled closer to him, so that her head was near to his chest and her shoulder had for a moment leaned against him. She remembered feeling the solidness of his body; noticing the sleeve of his gown fluttering as his arm moved, enclosing her, momentarily within its folds and the male scent it carried; and - really, really obscurely - noticing the deep white cuff of his shirt slipping further and further down his wrist as his hand twisted the hair from the button. 

The memory seemed to bring a heat to her being. She'd been so close to him, connected to him. It had almost felt as though that shared moment in time had been an intimate experience. She'd been shocked, then, to realise the thought of sharing a _real_ intimate experience with him quite excited her. 

"Oh, look, she's blushing. Come on, Hermione...who's the lucky Slytherin?" 

She looked up at them. 

"OK, I suppose you're right - it would have to be Malfoy." 

**2pm-3pm **

The blood seemed to be stopping; at least the pain in his head had lessened, and he was breathing easier now. 

He had to agree with Granger, the stunning spell could easily have been a _Caducus, _he had certainly been very confused; but he was very much afraid it had been one of Malfoy's favourites - _Imus Viritas._

Lucius often added to his pleasure of harming people by striking them with this particular curse. In the proces_s _of regaining consciousness, the victim would often reveal their innermost secrets.This not only amused Malfoy, but could sometimes prove very useful - for blackmail and other purposes. 

_She_ didn't need to be put right about that though. The fewer details she knew about what had gone through his mind during his recovery - his innermost secrets, the better. Let her continue to believe it was a _Caducus._

He looked over at her. She appeared to be unharmed. She'd brought him water to drink, rinsed out the blood from the handkerchief, and brought the pillow from the bed and pushed it in the hollow of his back, making sitting a little more comfortable. 

All this care and attention from a pupil? This was a unique experience. From the way he treated every single one of them, he'd expect no more than to be left lying on the ground to be walked around and stepped over. Granger however, he had realised, had a strong sense of morality and ethics. She wouldn't have left him to suffer. There was a feeling of decency about her... 

_...hell, listen to yourself, championing the know-it-all Gryffindor. _

__He continued to look at her, standing by the table as she took a drink of water. He took in all the curves, covered and uncovered; the well-formed and yet still feminine muscles moving her smooth, fresh skin as she lifted the cup to her lips... 

_You have to stop this adolescent nonsense! You have to stop looking at her in that way._

__This had all started that night, a couple of months ago - during the Easter holiday, when he had accidentally caught sight of her coming out of the bathroom on the third floor. 

She had been wearing a thin white dressing-gown that brushed the ground. Her skin looked pink and clean from her bath and her hair was pinned up, giving her a very Grecian look. He was reminded, quite forcibly, of a statue of Aphrodite he had once seen at Lucius Malfoy's house. 

The sight of her had stopped him in his tracks. 

It had been late, the school fairly empty because of the holidays, no one was around and he was quite positive she hadn't seen him in the shadows as he'd done a double-take and stared, fascinated. He really _had _in all innocence been comparing her to the statue, when she had begun walking slowly down the corridor towards him, her hand going to her hair and releasing it from its clips. She had shaken the mane free, but the movement had caused the sponge-bag to slip from her grasp. The act of bending to retrieve it had evidently loosened the dressing-gown, and without batting an eye, she had pulled the robe wide open, giving him a full-frontal view of her naked body, before wrapping the fabric tight around her again and continuing along the corridor. 

He'd sunk further into the shadows, holding his breath, knowing how it would appear if she'd discovered him there, but she'd walked on. 

Never before had he reacted to a pupil in that way. In fact, it had been a long time since _any _female had caused such a reaction in him. He'd had to wait a good few minutes, all the while reciting potion ingredients, before he was able to step out of the shadows and make his way back to his chambers without embarrassment. 

That night, in the privacy of his bed, he'd thought of her standing in the corridor. He wasn't given to fantasies, but on this occasion, he allowed one to develop. She had opened her robe, but before fastening it, had looked up and seen him standing at the end of the corridor. Instead of screaming her fright and disgust, she smiled and left the robe open as she walked towards him, stepping into the shadows with him, pressing her naked body against him, allowing him to touch her, kiss her. His own hand for that moment, had been _her_ hand, stroking him and working him with an expertise way beyond her years and experience. 

Afterwards, he'd been disgusted with himself. She was a pupil, barely eighteen. Just a few months earlier she'd been jail-bait. He couldn't believe he'd given in to such a puerile fantasy - such a..._sleezy..._fantasy. Young, nubile pupil and middle-aged, horny teacher. He felt ashamed to have imagined such a pathetic cliché. He was better than that. Stronger than that. 

Now here they were, locked up in a cell together. His mind _must _focus on the battle being fought outside, the consequences...and both their fates...if the wrong side won.


	3. What the hell was that?

I'm SO sorry (and absolutely gutted) I lost most of your reviews for the first chapter of this story. I don't know what happened, but I couldn't get a 'chapter index' up on the story. The same thing has now happened to 'The Scribe's Crystal'. I'm hoping it will clear itself up.

I love reading your reviews and the fact you have taken time to read my story and give an opinion - it makes my day to find them in my email box in the mornings. I get a buzz! I treasure them all. lol, Severusgirl.

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**Chapter Three**

**What the hell was that?**

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**3pm-4pm **- Hermione was lying on the bed, gazing into space. There was nothing else to do. 

_He_ seemed to have dozed off. He sat on the floor, his back against the wall, his legs crossed and stretched out in front of him. His chin rested on his chest and his eyes had been closed for the last twenty minutes or so. At least the cut on his head had eventually stopped bleeding. 

She shivered. It was _so _cold. She had pulled the blanket over her, but there were so many holes in it, it provided very little in the way of warmth - and the bed felt damp. She was sure she'd seen silverfish scuttling into the edging of the mattress as she'd pulled the blanket away to lie down. 

She looked up at the window. 

She ought to have gone home for Easter. 

The last time she'd seen her parents had been at Christmas. Why hadn't she gone home at Easter? 

Because they had gone skiing with the Birkowitz's and she had wanted to spend all her spare time revising for her NEWTs. 

Had she known what was going to happen, that Voldemort would strike _before _the exams, then she would have gone home. 

Christmas might have been the last time she'd seen her parents - ever. 

She swallowed. 

She hadn't taken enough notice of them; she hadn't made enough fuss of them; she hadn't done enough to make them realise how much she loved them... 

...but she hadn't known _this _was going to happen. 

Now she might never get the chance. This time tomorrow she could be... 

_Don't think about it. Don't think about it._

She turned to look at Snape. His head had shifted so that she could see one side of his face. 

Was he as scared as she? Did he have the same dread fear of what would happen to them...to everyone, if Voldemort won this battle? 

For a brief moment she wondered if he would turn - pledge his allegiance to Voldemort once again, to save his skin. Somehow, she didn't think so. Even if he loathed Harry, Hermione thought that Snape had enough loyalty to Dumbledore, to stick to this side - the good side. 

She wriggled and realised she needed to pee quite badly. She glanced at the pot standing in the corner of the room, then she glanced at Snape. Would he wake? Could she get over there and do it without disturbing him? 

Instead of getting up, she remained looking at him, her eyes studying his face. 

He looked very peaceful when he was asleep. Rather like a slumbering bird. His nose _was _rather large; would that get in the way if..? His lips were thin and didn't exactly invite kissing but... 

Her eyes travelled down the length of neck now showing as his head leaned to one side, the pulse beating visibly under the pale, stretched skin. Was that one of his erogenous zones? If she were to stiffen her tongue and let it play back and forth over that spot as she kissed and sucked his neck, would he writhe and moan with arousal beneath her? 

Her eyes wandered further down, between the gap made by the cloak's opening, following the buckled line of buttons on his black tunic and then on, to wonder just how many buttons made up the fly of his trousers; how quickly they could be undone without magic by...oh...say, someone other than the wearer; and (she shifted and crushed her hand between her - warmer now - thighs) what he might be like, behind those buttons. 

Looking up again, she twisted her head to bring her face in line with his. So this was how he would look if she woke up one day to find him next to her in bed. 

Knowing it was silly; realising it was a really giggly, girlie thing to do, but needing to keep her mind off darker thoughts, she closed her eyes and imagined herself in a big double bed, her head on a lovely fluffy pillow and her body snuggled against him. Then she would wake after a wonderful night of sex and sleep and, as her eyelids fluttered open, she would see his face on the pillow next to her, relaxed, content and asleep beside her... 

Her eyes really did flutter open then and she looked across at him in order to bring a touch of reality to her fantasy...only to find him staring straight back at her. 

She squealed and sat up. 

Her face burned. Oh, God, how embarrassing; how humiliating; how... 

...and he was a _Legilimens! _He might have been able to see what she'd been thinking! 

Ohhhhhhhh! 

**4pm-5pm** - Naturally she had screamed. 

How could he have expected anything else? A young woman like her, waking to find his cold, old face staring at her. 

He had been wrong to stare, but when he'd opened his eyes and seen her asleep on the bed, she'd looked so... peaceful and...beautiful...like something from a fairy tale. She had a happy, expectant expression and although he couldn't read her thoughts while her eyes were closed, he could see enough in her face to know her dream was a sweet one. He wondered idly which lucky Gryffindor was there with her. 

He'd looked away quickly as her eyes had opened, hoping his own had remembered their years of training and not given any hint of what had been going through his mind. He was allowing it to wander alarmingly lately. 

Now she was pacing the room. He looked up to see her with her arms across her body, bending over as if in pain, her face very red. 

"Miss Granger, are you unwell?" he asked, making to stand. 

"No. No," she replied, airily. "I just...I just...oh! I need to pee!" 

Needed to..? Oh, yes, of course. Hmmm. This could be a problem... 

His eyes ran around the room and came to rest on a pot standing in the corner. He pointed it out to her. 

"Yes, I know it's there...but...but so are you. I _would_ like some privacy." 

He stared at her. 

"Miss Granger, we are locked up in a twelve-by-twelve cell, where do you expect me to go?" 

"I know, but..." 

"Or perhaps you are imagining the guard to be a reasonable sort who will allow me to step outside for a moment while the lady relieves herself?" 

He saw her eyes begin to glisten and for once in his life he scolded himself for being mean. 

"I shall close my eyes." 

"That's not good enough. You have to turn your back as well." 

"I can assure you I will not spy on you, Miss Granger." 

"I don't care. Turn your back." 

With a sigh, he did as requested. 

"And put your hands over your ears..." 

With another sigh he did this also. 

"Can you still hear me?" 

"No." 

"Ohhhhh! Sing." 

"I beg your pardon?" He turned an incredulous face to her. 

"Sing. Then I'll know you can't hear me." 

"Miss Granger, I have never_ sung_ in my _life!"_

"Well...hum then, but...oh, pleeeese..." 

She looked desperate. With a feeling of dread, he turned his back on her once again, closed his eyes, covered his ears and dredged up a tune from way back in his youth. 

A little while later, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to face her. 

"What the hell was that?" 

"Miss Granger, please remember I am your teacher and address me accordingly..." 

She laughed. 

"I'm sorry, Professor, I will but...what the hell was that?" 

"Just a song I remember from my younger days." 

"Called?" 

"Does it matter?" He wasn't going to tell her - it was just a song he'd snatched from his memory, that was all. He didn't know why that _particular_ one should have come up, but it had. It had been a random thing. 

Completely random. 

"I don't remember." 

"Oh, OK. Who's it by, then?" 

"Miss Granger..." he said, wearily. 

"_Come on_...who's it by?" 

He sighed. 

"A band called The Buzzcocks. 

"Oh. Very..._nice_!" she grinned, then frowned. "Hey, I think I've _heard_ of them..." 

"Really." he said, flatly. 

"They were a punk band, weren't they? A _muggle_ band?" 

"Yes." He saw her eyebrows rise in surprise. "We all do strange things in adolescence, Miss Granger. You're not the first generation to go through it." 

She giggled as she sat down beside him, her back to the wall. 

In spite of himself, he smiled inwardly. He had to admit he liked the sound of her laugh. If he had to describe it, he would say 'bubbles' - but not lightweight bubbles; more the kind you would expect in a very expensive vintage champagne. The kind one might get very pleasantly drunk on. It was a charming distraction to their present surroundings and predicament. 

"So," she said, giving him a sly look. "What was the song called?" 

He felt his insides jolt. Was she..._teasing _him? 

"I told you, I don't remember." 

"Yes you do..." 

Her voice was light and playful - sing-songy even. 

This should _not_ progress. 

"Miss Granger, you are overstepping the mark of familiarity..." 

"I know... 

"...but we could both be dead tomorrow. I just wanted to lighten the mood." 

There was a heavy silence that lasted for a long time. They both stared up at the window. It was getting dark. 

"What do you suppose is happening out there?" she whispered. 

"I dread to think," he replied heavily. 

Another silence. 

She shivered beside him and he realised with great embarrassment that he was wrapped in a cloak while she was dressed in next to nothing. 

Quickly he unfastened the clasp on the cloak and took it off, placing it around her shoulders and pulling it closed around her, before his eyes could travel further up the gaping leg of her shorts. 

He knew he didn't need to fasten the cloak for her, but...he found he wanted to. 

He was aware of her looking at his face as he adjusted the collar, making sure it stood up around her neck. 

He finished and looked back at her. 

"Thank you." she said into his eyes. 

An unfamiliar feeling warmed him; as though for a moment her bubbly laugh had somehow got inside him. 

What the hell was that?


	4. Sweetness and Seduction

Before we start, could I just point you all in the direction of a really funny one-shot I discovered recently called 'Snape's Desk' by Mynuet. I really enjoyed it. You might, too.

Message to all my faithful readers of 'Madness With The Bliss': I'm two chapters in to a sequel. What do you think? Interested? Or should I leave it where it finished?

Thanks for all your lovely reviews to the last chapter. Responses at the end of this one.

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**Chapter Four**

**Sweetness and seduction**

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**5pm-6pm**

"Are you hungry?" 

"Yes." 

"Shouldn't they have brought us food by now?" 

He pulled the blanket further around his shoulders. 

"You have great faith in human nature, Miss Granger. Do you really suppose they care about feeding us? Be thankful we at least have water." 

She stared at him. 

"But they _have _to feed us! There are rules...human rights..." 

He snorted. 

"Have you forgotten who we are dealing with? Do you imagine the Dark Lord follows rules and conventions?" 

She continued to stare at him. 

"So we could starve to death?" 

"No," he said, quietly. "I do not imagine that to be our fate; but they will feed us when they remember to do so." 

There was a pause. 

Then he remembered... 

He patted his tunic, and then went to a pocket. 

"Here." 

He held out a twist of waxed paper. 

She looked at him in amazement. 

"_You _carry sweets around?! 

"_A _sweet," he corrected her. "It is one of the Headmaster's. He insisted I take one the last time I was in his office. I believe he called it a 'Devonshire Clotted Cream Fudge'!" 

She laughed. 

"Professor Dumbledore does have a sweet tooth, doesn't he." 

She pulled the ends of the wrapper and it twisted open. Inside was a large golden-brown brick of creamy fudge. 

"We'll share it." 

He looked at her. 

"Thank you, no. I have no liking for sugar." 

"I know it won't do much to keep the hunger at bay, but in these circumstances, sugar is good for you." 

He continued to look at her. _Here she goes again_, he thought; and he was right. 

"It'll help your energy levels. Walkers and climbers carry Kendal Mint Cake around with them, which is basically sugar. Hilary and Tenzing ate some on the summit of Everest in 1953...It can help keep you alive." 

"That's very interesting, Miss Granger, but..." 

The words dried as he watched her put the fudge to her mouth and slowly bite down on it, a little 'Mmmm' escaping her as one half tumbled out of sight behind her pearly teeth. He couldn't believe it when she pulled her hand away and raised it, presenting the remaining half of fudge to his lips. 

He swallowed and looked down at the sweet hovering a moment from his mouth. 

The fudge had been to her mouth; rested on her lips. He could see the marks made by her teeth, the bitten edge shining with her moisture - and she was offering to feed it to him. 

The whole thing had been so simple and yet so...so... 

Slowly he opened his mouth and allowed her to push the fudge inside. 

He let it remain where it landed, just behind his lower teeth as the tip of his tongue ran over that bitten edge, gathering in whatever lingering evidence of her mouth he could. 

When he finally allowed himself to chew, he hardly noticed the sickening, almost pure sugar taste of the sweet. Every taste-bud seemed to be leaning forward trying to capture that fleeting touch of her fingertip inside his mouth. 

"Delicious, isn't it." 

He chewed slowly, still dazed. 

"Hmmmm?" 

"I said, it's delicious. I wish you had more. Professor Dumbledore always has the best sweets. They're even better than Honeyduke's. I think he magics them up himself..." 

He frowned, confused. How could she be speaking so normally? Had she _no _idea what she had just done? 

He looked at her. 

No, she probably hadn't. Little Miss Know-it-all was evidently naive in matters of seduction. What she had done, she'd done in total innocence. 

But - she was _eighteen! _In a mixed boarding school. She couldn't be_ that _innocent. She must have had _some_ sexual contact with boys. She was so thick with Potter and Weasley, surely one of them..? Even a quick fumble behind a tapestry would have awakened her to the world of sexual behaviour. Ye Gods! They had _Draco Malfoy_ in the school for the heavens' sake! He couldn't believe there was a female student who _hadn't _been groped by that horny little bastard... 

**6pm-7pm**

****Hermione snuggled back into the cloak, licked the remaining sweetness off her teeth and smiled to herself. 

That had thrown him. 

At least it had taken her mind off things for a little while. 

She noticed it was becoming difficult to think of anything except the cold, and feeling hungry. 

Even the Professor's cloak wasn't keeping the cold out as much as it had when he'd first put it over her. It was only a summer cloak after all. _He_ must be freezing. 

She couldn't believe the change in the weather. Just yesterday, she'd been dangling her feet in the lake back at Hogwarts... 

"Professor, how come the weather has changed so dramatically?" And then suddenly a dreadful thought hit her. "It's...it's not a sign, or an omen or anything, is it?" 

"No. It's just the natural climate around here." 

"What do you mean? Where are we?" 

"Miss Granger, we have been here for hours. Are you seriously telling me you haven't reached a conclusion as to where we are?" 

"No," she said, piqued. "I just assumed we'd been thrown in the dungeons of Voldemort's...(sorry Professorcastle or something." 

He stared at her, rubbing his left arm at the same time. 

"During the past few hours I have begun to notice several gaping holes in your education, Miss Granger. Shall I give you some clues? Which establishment do you imagine would have its highest temperature set at winter levels? Which place is so secure, I won't even _bother_ trying to escape. Do you honestly believe I would have let us both sit here, hungry, cold, waiting to die, if I had the slightest hope of escape?" 

She looked at him in disbelief. 

"_Azkaban!?"_

"Well done!" he said, scathingly. "Five points to Gryffindor." 

"_OH SHUT UP!"_ she yelled, jumping up, tears springing to her eyes. "This is hard enough to bare without your classroom sarcasm." She turned her back on him, instantly realising she'd shouted at a teacher. She cringed, waiting for the inevitable 'Professor Snape' reaction. 

"Yes," he said, sounding almost apologetic. "I must try to remember, we are not exactly in a classroom environment at present." 

She swallowed. 

"How could we possibly be in Azkaban?" She turned to face him again. "It's Ministry-run. Who would lock us up in here?" 

"The Dark Lord - when he took control and released his followers and remaining Death Eaters. It left plenty of room for his enemies." 

"You...you mean, Harry could be here somewhere?" 

"No. Potter is either still fighting, or dead." 

He must have seen her stricken face because he quickly added, 

"But I believe he must still be alive. We surely would have been approached by now, had the Dark Lord been victorious." 

Hermione screamed as a clatter at the door sounded at that precise moment. 

A small hatch near the bottom had slid open and a tray was shoved through, baring chunks of bread and cheese, and a flask of some kind. 

The bread flew off the tray and onto the ground, the flask tipped over and the lid came off, spilling the contents. 

Snape leaped forward and set the flask upright before too much of the liquid escaped. He collected the escaped bread, picked up the tray and brought it to the table. 

Hermione's heart was still in her mouth as she walked over and sniffed the flask. 

"Soup? Oh, thank God!" she spluttered, not sure if she meant because there was food, or from relief they hadn't come to get them. 

"We shall have to use the goblet," he poured some soup into their water goblet and handed it to her. 

She took a few mouthfuls. It was luke warm, but better than nothing. She then handed the goblet to him. 

"I shall have mine after," he said, tearing at the bread. 

"No, we'll take it in turns." When he looked at her, she pushed the goblet nearer to him. "Come on, don't be silly. You're just as hungry as me." 

They ate. 

Not full, but at least no longer hungry, she tore off a last piece of bread and went and sat on the bed. 

He put the lid back on the flask. They hadn't eaten everything, although they wanted to. They had agreed to save some - not knowing when they would be fed next. 

She looked up as something wet fell on her head. 

"Oh, no!" 

She jumped up in disbelief as snow began blowing in through a hole in the window and falling on the bed. 

"Help me move the bed to the other side of the cell," he said, taking hold of one end. 

She took the other and together they moved it, then sat down heavily, side-by-side. 

"I really hope you're right; that it _isn't_ an omen," she said, quietly. 

"So do I, Miss Granger. So do I." 

---------------------------- 

Melted Icicle: Thanx for your lengthy reviews - always a delight to receive. I'm not sure if my sex scenes are 'smutty'. See 'Tonight's the Night' if you want to know my style in advance! 

FemmeLoki: Yes, I know what you mean about 'giggly'. Hermione only giggles once in chapter three and that's at the thought of Snape as an adolecent/punk. Laugh or chuckle just didn't seem to fit the moment, so it had to be giggle. As for the giggly fantasy - she would normally scorn such a thing (just as Snape does), but she needed to think of lighter things. 

Thousandl: Thanx for the humour comment. It's always worrying whether an amusing thought will translate onto the page well. I felt boosted by your comment. 

edwardina: I'm flattered! Thanx. 

Tama-Ayanami: Those time markers are just that - to indicate the passage of the 'twenty-four little hours'. I just felt it went with the basis of the story. 

Thanks for your reviews: JessiokaFroka (congrats on the betareader job for Grill!);Intelligent Witch;Scarred4Life; RandomReviewer;Lauren;mysticalfairy-05;HelenaOe(lol); UntamedSpirit;HazeTheBadger;Charmed Piper;KairiTheIcedRose;Billiejoe;Kumiko ran;Kaz;Mr.Moosey;mouse;honeybuns5221 


	5. Hushed and white as snow

Thanks once again, everyone, for supplying me with my daily fix of reviews. love to all.

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**Chapter Five**

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**Hushed and white with snow**

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**7pm-8pm** - At least the bed was a little softer on her bottom than the floor had been. She sat to the back, leaning against the wall. 

The snow, still blowing in through the window, didn't reach them, although the extra chill that came with it, did. 

How could she complain? Harry, Ron, Ginny and all the others were out there fighting for their lives. It would be a miracle if every one of them survived. 

Which of them would still be around at the end of all this? Not many if Voldemort won. Harry would certainly be dead... 

She felt herself sinking further into morbid thoughts, terrified how easily they could become a reality. 

What about Professor Dumbledore? He might be a very powerful wizard, but he was also very old. She had noticed he was looking very weary lately. She didn't doubt he had the power to ward off Voldemort's attacks, but did he have the stamina any more? 

She couldn't imagine a world without Professor Dumbledore. 

Or Harry. 

Or any of her friends... 

...but then, if Voldemort won, she wouldn't be around to _see_ a world without Harry or Ron... 

"Professor, why didn't they kill me?" 

He was sitting forward of her, on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. At her words, he straightened and turned his head slightly. 

"I imagine they had their orders to take you alive as a precautionary measure. If the battle fails to go as the Dark Lord plans, he will have you to barter with." 

She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. 

"You mean, he'll hold me to ransom to get to Harry?" 

"If he needs to, yes." 

"But that mustn't happen! Harry mustn't have _me_ to worry about. He has to do whatever he needs to win - I'm expendable." 

"You know Potter will not look at it that way. You and he are very close, I think." 

"He's my best friend - and I'm very proud to say that! But I shouldn't even _begin_ to be a consideration when there's so much more at stake. OH! I'm so _angry _with myself for getting caught so quickly. I was so _stupid!" _

"You should not be so hard on yourself," he said, standing and beginning to walk from one end of the cell to the other and then back again. "The Death Eaters are ruthless, precise and sly. You have done well to survive coming face to face with them as often as you have." 

She looked at him and couldn't help imagining a time when _he _had been a Death Eater. She tried to picture him running around Hogwarts, fighting against her and Harry and Dumbledore, causing death and destruction like the other Death Eaters. 

However he treated everyone; however rude and nasty he'd ever been; however cold and heartless he appeared, the picture just didn't seem to fit. 

Yes, there had always been a feeling that he was teetering on the edge of evilness - that if that mark on his arm burned fiercely enough, he would answer the call; but still she felt there was a core of decency about him; a sense of loyalty. 

What had he said earlier? 

_'We all do strange things in adolescence...'_

Perhaps becoming a Death Eater had been one of those things. She didn't know when he had become one, or for how long - all she knew was that one day, for some reason, he had turned, and come to Professor Dumbledore. 

"It's just so frustrating and frightening not knowing what's going on," she said. "The first we'll know, is when that cell door eventually opens and we see who's standing on the other side." 

She watched him turn as he reached the wall and began walking back again. 

"I believe we shall know in advance if Potter has succeeded in defeating the Dark Lord. There will be a sign." 

"What sort of sign?" 

"I do not know - but we shall know it when we see it. _If _we see it." 

She watched as he continued to pace back and forth. 

"Would you like your cloak back for a while?" she asked. He must be freezing. 

"No, keep it. You have fewer clothes than I." 

He walked past her again. 

"Is something wrong?" 

"No." 

"Why are you pacing up and down like a tiger, then?" 

"I am merely trying to keep my circulation going." 

"Oh." 

He walked past her a few more times, a look of grave concentration on his face. 

"Are you sure you're OK?" 

"_YES, _Miss Granger," he answered, irritably. "I am perfectly '_OK_'." 

He stopped, and his shoulders sagged in defeat as he sighed, 

"Very well...in your own words, Miss Granger, 'I need to pee'." 

She burst out laughing. 

"Shall I ask the guard if I can stand outside while the gentleman relieves himself?" 

He glared at her for a moment before giving in and raising his mouth in a tiny, reluctant smile. 

"No - but it is now _your _turn to sing." He waved his hand, indicating that she should turn away. 

She got up and moved to the farthest wall. 

Oh, Lord! Now she knew what he had meant - she hadn't sung since her junior school. 

She closed her eyes and put her hands to her ears: 

'_Oh, Danny boy, the drums, the drums are calling,_

_From glen to glen and down the mountain side;_

_The summer's gone, and all the leaves are falling;_

_'Tis ye, 'tis ye must go, and I must bide._

__

_But come ye back when summer's in the meadow,_

_Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow;_

_'Till I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow;_

_Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so._

__

_But if ye come when all the flowers are dying,_

_And I am dead, as dead I well may be._

_Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying,_

_And kneel and say an 'Ave' there for me._

__

_And I shall hear, 'though soft ye tread above me._

___And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be._

_If ye'll not fail to tell me that ye love me,_

_Then I shall sleep in peace until ye come to me.'_

__

A tear had trickled from each eye and the last verse had come out a bit wobbly. 

"Was there a reason for choosing that particular song?" he asked, quietly. 

"It's mum's favourite..." Her voice caught and her throat seized up. 

She stared at the wall. 

**8pm-9pm** - She was crying. 

Usually, if a female student cried in front of him it was because he had been spiteful, and quite honestly, he couldn't care less. If the student concerned bore a complete dunderhead approach to his classes, then frankly, it was all they deserved. 

But this was different. This was _her. _And they were in _this _situation.__

Of course it was a typical reaction to danger, recalling the mother. He remembered reading a study on people who had survived grave peril. Nearly every one - young and old - had admitted to wanting or thinking of their mother at some moment during the crisis. 

He stood still as he looked at her, arms hanging useless by his side. He had never felt so emotionally inadequate in his life. He had a strong urge to put his arms around her and comfort her, wipe away the tears from her cheeks; but he held back, unable to do so. 

Now who was the dunderhead? 

His brain fidgeted, trying to work out what to do next. 

"The venom of a cobra; one quarter ounce of powdered armadillo claw and three drops of sap from the _Sonchus oleracus?"_

She raised her hand to her face, wiped her eyes and sniffed before answering, 

"_Intemperies Vocis - _a potion which causes the drinker to shout involuntary obscenities ." 

"A tisane of _Myosotis_, _Daucus carota _and dried dragon-fly wings, infused for five hours during the spring equinox?" 

She turned to look at him. At least she'd stopped crying. 

"A basic memory-restoring potion," she answered. 

"And what would you add if you wished to delve into the subconscious?" 

"The ground cornea of a python and...one drop of Veritaserum - making very sure to stir in the Veritaserum thoroughly." 

He nodded. 

"Equal measures of _Farina, Saccharon_ and _Butyrum,_ mixed with two _Pullus Ovum_?" 

She blinked and then hiccupped a laugh. 

"Ingredients for a sponge-cake!" 

Grinning, she went and sat on the bed. 

"I wouldn't expect you to know how to make a sponge-cake, Professor." 

"My mother was a scribe for a witch who wrote recipe books as well as potion books," he said, sitting on the bed beside her. "My mother was frequently...unwell and unable to work; I would copy the drafts for her..." 

He stopped, surprised. Why on earth was he telling her this? 

"So that's where your knowledge of potions came from?" 

"Initially, yes." 

"And sponge-cakes..." she smiled up at him. 

"My cauldron cakes were quite a success, too." He gave a tiny smile back. 

"My parents are dentists, but I don't know much about teeth." 

"And yet you soak up knowledge in every other sphere and approach your studies with great maturity." 

"_'An old head on young shoulders' _is how I'm usually described. My parents never spoke to me as though I were a child. They always tried to include me in decisions, and asked my opinion of things. Of course, I had my moments of childish behaviour, but I suppose their attitude helped shape the way I think." She looked at him. "Is...is your mother still alive?" 

"No." 

"Do...do you have _any _family?" 

He looked at her. 

"I think you should get some rest." 

---------------------------- 

Thank you, thank you to everyone who reviewed. As always, each and every one was received with delight! 

Kerichi: OK, I confess to blasphemy. My penance? I must stare at Sev's lips for one whole hour before bedtime. 

The Great Green Leaf of Peril: Touched by your review. Mr. Rickman uses the word 'shite' - so that was cool! 

Emily: No, I'm not from NZ. I am a Brit. But most people know Hilary, right? Like most people know Armstrong. 

Annonomys: Thanks for your review, but I'm stung. Have I made spelling mistakes? I admit it's not my strong point and some get through, but I do try hard to spot them. Someone point them out if I have - and please remember, I'm British, so British spelling applies. 

JessiokaFroka: Please read my note to Annonomys above. What have I done? I'm getting paranoid now. Thanks for the offer to be my betareader (did you offer because of my spelling? - see, paranoid). Maybe for Madness2 (coming along nicely, btw. I will begin posting when this little story is done.)


	6. It's just survival

1st Feb 2005 - checking back on this story I found half of chapter six missing. Have no idea how it happened, but I am uploading again, unfortunately losing all my author's notes at the end to my reviewers. Apologies.

lots of love - Severusgirl

Thank you so much for all your reviews. I'm glad you liked the inclusion of Danny Boy. I love the song and I thought it was as far removed as could be from the song Snape had hummed earlier.

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**Ch****apter six**

**It's just survival**

**9pm-10pm**

"Rest? I can't rest."

"You can't have had much sleep last night?"

"True. I think it was about three or four in the morning when Voldemort struck."

"Would you _please _refrain from using that name!"

"I'm sorry, Professor - I keep forgetting." She blushed and looked down at her fingers fiddling with the edges of the cloak. "Actually, I find it quite..._easy_ to forget that...you were once...you have the mark."

"That...that is very...generous of you to say so, Miss Granger."

There followed a silence that needed to be filled.

"Harry has been fighting for about nineteen hours..."

"The Headmaster will have caused diversions and kept Potter from the Dark Lord for as long as possible. The Order will have arrived to help - and whatever my personal opinion of Lupin and Moody, they are both exceptional wizards; as are all the members of the Order."

"Including you!"

He smirked as he inclined his head.

"Including me. And you have never seen Professor McGonagall in a rage.

"Yes I have," she said, "The night Delores Umbridge attacked Hagrid. I think Professor McGonagall could fell the enemy with just a look...oh, sorry, Professor - I'm over-stepping the mark again, aren't I?"

"No," he said, reasonably. "I have been on the receiving end of Minerva's glare on several occasions. I know exactly what you mean."

"I've seen Professor Dumbledore cast magic with just a wave of his hand. Is that something you can do?"

He shook his head.

"I can bring a light to this cell..." he said, glancing around. "...which may not be a bad idea." He waved his hand, lighting the room with a much needed flickering glow. "But unfortunately, not heat. Just basic spells."

She looked at him and couldn't help a slight disappointment wash over her. Somehow she'd imagined him to have more powerful magic at his disposal. He always exuded an aura of energy, different from Professor Dumbledore's, but still something that could be felt whenever he entered a room.

He obviously saw some of this in her eyes. A brief shadow of pique darkened his face.

"I _do_ have an extensive knowledge of obscure magic which may serve to postpone any harm directed at us. If some mundane little throwback comes to fetch us, I shall be able to deal with them; but unarmed, I shall be no match for Lucius Malfoy with a wand. One needs very specific powers for anything of major importance. The Headmaster is a very powerful wizard."

There came a very sudden, very heavy thump against the door.

They both started. Hermione gave a small scream and clutched her throat; Snape spun around to face the door, his reflexes sparking in readiness.

Nothing.

The door did not open.

They stood there in stunned silence before letting out heavy sighs. They looked at each other, both seeing the relief in the other's face.

Hermione swallowed.

"I'm not sure if I should go with dignity or fight to the last..."

"It may not come to that..."

"What will they do to us...if..."

"Please, do not fill your mind with such things, Miss Granger."

"No...I think I need to be prepared. Do you think they'll kill us together or one at a time?"

"Miss Granger..."

"I suppose the cruciatus curse will finish us...but there's plenty of curses they could use before...

"Miss Granger, I forbid you carry on talking of this..." He warned.

"I expect once it starts you just have to pray for it to be over quickly, but even a moment will feel like eternity..."

"_If you really want to know,_" he spat, suddenly, his eyes bright with spite, a thin line of perspiration shining above his upper lip. "_I_ am destined for a slow, painful death at the hands of the Dark Lord for betraying him, whilst _you_ will be murdered by the last Death Eater to have taken pleasure of you. Are you happy now you have forced us both to think of it?"

**10pm-11pm**

He thought she was going to be sick.

She stood up quickly, her face deathly pale.

He shouldn't have said it; he shouldn't have said it.

"Miss Granger, I..."

"No! No! I thought they would kill me...torture me and kill me..." Her voice was unsteady, getting higher as she spoke. "But not _that_...not _that..._"She strode over to the door and began banging on it. "I want out! Let me out! I don't care if I die in the process, but get me out...any death would be better than...Oh, God! There must be some way we could try and escape so they kill us now..."

He got up and began walking towards her.

She fell to her knees and began scrabbling at the little hatch at the bottom of the door.

"Maybe I could crawl through here...I'd lose skin, but...

He bent and caught her arm, forcing her to her feet. She screamed and turned on him, pure panic in her face as she began lashing out at him.

"You only know all this because you were one of them!" she screamed at him. "The darkest evil that walks the earth...you've probably done all the things they do..."

He grabbed her arms and restrained her from hitting him any more.

"Miss Granger..." He raised his voice to her.

"No, let me go..." she cried, hysterically. "You're one of them...don't touch me..."

"Miss Granger..."

She fought against him, but he knew he mustn't let her go. He had to calm her down without resorting to slapping her.

"Miss..." and then he stopped. "Hermione," he said, gently, looking directly into her eyes. "Hermione."

Her struggles quickly died, as she looked back at him. Then her face collapsed and she fell against him, sobbing.

He didn't even think about it. His arms went around her immediately and he held her as she cried herself out.

They stood there for a long while as her sobs gradually subsided and he found himself resting his cheek on the top of her head as he stroked her hair, with no other thought than to calm her.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, eventually.

"So am I. I should have remained silent."

"I didn't mean what I said..."

"I know...your comment earlier - about forgetting - more than makes up for it, believe me."

"I'm not normally such a baby, it's just..."

"I have never thought you anything but brave."

A small silence, while she hiccupped a few times against his chest.

"Have you noticed," she said, quietly. "It's warmer cuddled up like this."

"I had, yes."

"Of course, it's basic survival technique - body warmth and all that. People have survived blizzards by cuddling up."

"Come and sit down," he said, before she could launch into a lecture.

He guided her over to the bed and they both sat on it lengthways, with their backs against the headrest.

"What are you doing?" he said, as she undid the cloak and took it off.

"Sharing."

She spread the cloak over the both of them then leaned back and put her arms around him. He did the same to her.

"This isn't going to work..." she said.

"Your arm is going to get cramp..."

"And we haven't got our backs covered - they'll freeze. I guess the only answer is to lie down."

She looked up at him.

"It's just survival." she said.

He'd survived this little episode so far; he'd not had one unsuitable thought. All he'd been concerned with was calming her. He was sure he could cope.

They lay down on the bed and adjusted the cloak over them, then cuddled up again.

"What shall we talk about?"

"Nothing, Miss Granger. You should rest."

"You called me Hermione a little while ago."

"That was to calm you."

"I know, but...would you mind calling me Hermione just while we're in here? It'll help bring something...personal to this...place."

"Very well, if it makes you feel better - Hermione."

"And...can we please talk? I have to keep my mind off...things..."

His nose was in her hair. It smelt of exotic flowers and spices.

It reminded him of that Potions class, when her hair had got caught in his button. That had been embarrassing. It must have been just a few days after he'd seen her emerging from the bathroom.

He knew what he was doing, but couldn't help himself. As he'd approached her table, instead of stepping to the side and inspecting the cauldron, he couldn't resist peering over her shoulder instead. Totally self-indulgent. He'd just wanted to get as close as he dared. Of course, he hadn't banked on her hair getting caught.

He couldn't untangle it quick enough. The more he'd tried, the nearer she'd got, until she was actually leaning against him. His normally cool demeanour had deserted him. Sweat had erupted from every pore, as though this incident was more of an intimate nature. He was sure he'd snapped at her, making out it was her fault, when all the time...

The smell of her hair had wafted towards him then, too and he'd thought of Aphrodite...

She snuggled closer and gave a little purr of comfort.

"Professor...I'm sorry you got caught but...I'm very glad you're here with me. I think I would have gone mad by myself."

"And for your part, you have certainly helped keep the spirits light."

He stroked her hair and without thinking, nuzzled her head, puckering his lips to kiss the top of her head. He was a heartbeat from releasing the kiss, when he stopped, shocked at his intended action. He pulled away, hoping she hadn't noticed.

Damn!

He had to get these feelings under control.

He frowned.

Not the lustful urges that had besieged his body earlier; no, he was managing to control them efficiently, but something else...

A desire to protect her, keep her safe and...this wasn't a product of the last few hours. His eyes widened as his subconscious suddenly revealed itself and he realised this had been brewing for some time.

When?

He searched his memory.

Back two years ago, when the Dark Lord had revealed his existence at the Ministry of Magic. The night Black had died.

She had been injured; hospitalised.

In the privacy of night, he had gone up to the Hospital Wing just to enquire how she was. She was, for all his sniping, his star pupil. She excelled in Potions, as he himself had done. There was a subdued delight in finding a pupil so attentive, interested and eager to learn his subject.

He had never shown concern for a pupil's health before. Madam Pomfrey had been visibly shocked when he'd glided into the ward.

He had been allowed to see her. She was unconscious, of course, and the sight of her lying helpless in the hospital bed, pale and still and...brave - injured by something _he_ had once been, had moved something inside him - something he had been very quick to suppress...

...until the night of 'Aphrodite' brought a new dimension to it all...

He now knew that if hostile hands opened that cell door when all this was over, he would hold them back from her for as long as possible, fight with his hands if need be, to try and keep her from harm. Protect her to the last.

"Ever fallen in love with someone you shouldn't've fallen in love with?"

"Huh?" she looked up at him.

"The song by The Buzzcocks I was humming earlier, while you were...that's what it was called."

"Oh." She put her head back down.

He closed his eyes for a moment.

He was definitely feeling warmer.


	7. Pillow Talk

I'm back...I'm back. Thank the Lord, I'm back. Safe on the ground after an endless eight hour flight. I _really _don't like flying. BUT, I come back home and find no less than forty reviews of my stories waiting for me. Thank you for brightening up the jet-lag! As a thank you, I'm posting the next chapter asap but...oh, dear...I have a feeling you're going to hate me....

I promise to update very, very soon.

For those of you interested in the sequel to 'Madness With The Bliss', I've got so much of it under wraps now (what else is there to do to calm the nerves at 35,000 feet?!) I'm ready to start posting very soon.

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**Chapter six**

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**Pillow talk**

11pm-midnight - 

"So, were you a punk-rocker, then?" she said, not being able to hide the smile in her voice. 

"No-oo - I just listened to the music whenever I was away from school." 

She thought she could hear a suggestion of a smile in _his _voice and marvelled at the different Professor Snape she was seeing. Of course being imprisoned was a great equaliser. If they made it out alive she had no doubt he would revert back to the old Snape; but she couldn't help wondering if perhaps his attitude towards _her_ might change. They had, after all, peed in each other's presence. 

"I couldn't imagine you with bright red hair and a safety pin through your nose." 

"I should hope not!" 

There was a nicely-timed silence before... 

"Green for Slytherin, if anything." 

She chuckled. 

"What made you choose that song?" 

"It was the first one to come into my head." 

"And have you?" 

"Have I what?" 

"Ever fallen in love with someone you shouldn't have?" 

He paused. 

"What kind of question is that to ask your teacher?" 

"It's just that you picked that one after all those years - I thought it might have been an important song to you back then." 

"You really are...I just happened to remember that particular one, that's all." 

She leaned up to look at him. 

"I don't believe you," she grinned. "I think you had a secret love." 

"You are an incurable romantic. I had nothing of the sort." 

She lay back down and allowed a little silence before saying, 

"So what was her name, then?" 

"Hermione..." he warned. 

"Oh, same name as me!" she teased. 

"This is madness; why am I even..? Yes, all right, there _was _someone, if you _must _know; but no more questions. It remains my private business." 

"Why shouldn't you have fallen in love with her?" 

For one tiny moment she thought he was going to tell her, but... 

"Could we change the subject please..." 

She shivered. 

"It's getting colder..." 

"Yes, I had noticed." 

She looked at her watch. 

"Almost midnight - it'll get colder before morning..." 

"Hmmmm, this could become quite uncomfortable." 

"Dangerous, even." 

A silence. 

"You know, there _is _another survival trick..." she said, carefully. 

"Don't even suggest it." 

"It could be the only way." 

"I think we'll take our chances." 

"You _do _know what I'm talking about, don't you?" 

"Yes, and it's out of the question." 

"Well, I admit it's a bit unorthodox, but it might be necessary..." 

"Not only unorthodox but entirely inappropriate." 

"Inappropriate?" 

"I am your _teacher_!" 

"Oh, so what _would _be appropriate? Harry wins and when they come to release us, they find us dead of hypothermia?" 

"No - inappropriate for them to open that door and find us in bed together, naked." 

"But our body heat will be more effective..." 

"No!" 

She frowned at him. 

"Well, you know something? _I'm_ assuming we're going to win and _I_ want to survive so I can celebrate..." She put her hands under the cloak, lifted her bottom and wriggled out of her shorts. "...so I'm not going to let a little thing like inappropriateness get in the way." She sat up and pulled her top up over her head and put both items of clothing on top of the cloak before throwing herself down beside him. 

She glanced up at him. 

"You can let me freeze on my own, if you want - _then_ how will it look?" 

**Midnight-1am**

He was speechless...breathless...motionless... 

In the blink of an eye she was... 

...next to him...in bed...naked! 

And she wanted him naked too! 

She was right, of course. The best way to preserve body heat _was_ to have skin contact, but...it was just so...he couldn't possibly...he'd be hauled up before the Ministry if... 

...but she was now naked and shivering against him. She would freeze unless...There _must _be a way round this. Think. Think. Think. 

"Turn your back." 

Without a word, she turned to face the wall. He left the bed, taking in her smooth, naked back before covering her again with the cloak. 

Quickly he undressed, laying his clothes on top of the cloak. 

"Oh, please hurry - it's _so _cold." 

_'Well, no problem so far' _he thought as he looked down. The cold had made everything retreat almost out of sight. 

He got back into the bed, trembling with cold and... 

"Hurry, put your arms around me." 

He moved to comply, then stopped in his tracks, aware of two things simultaneously. 

He wasn't sure where he could safely put his hands if he hugged her and, his body now seemed to be recovering from the cold air at an alarming rate. 

He swallowed. 

He was now in very dangerous territory. The big test. 

However, hadn't he, Severus Snape, been the only Death Eater capable of closing his mind to the Dark Lord? If he was able to block the Dark Lord and his power, surely one naked female..? 

"Ummm, I think we should turn around and _you _hug _me." _he said. 

"OK" 

He turned quickly and her arm slipped around his waist. 

He could feel her hair tickling his shoulder blade; her breath on his spine and...(the dear Gods!)...her hard nipples brushing against his skin. 

He was helpless to prevent the groin-aching memory of those beautiful buds standing up beneath her vest earlier... 

He closed his eyes to the ever rising tide of arousal. 

_Take the brain of the grapper-fish and reduce to a paste with two drops of dragon's blood..._

"Professor?" she said, quietly. 

"Ye..?" He cleared his throat. "Yes?" 

"You know this isn't the right way round?" 

"This is the _only _way round..." 

"Oh, don't be so immature - your vital organs are going to freeze if you don't turn and face me." 

His vital organs?! His left kidney wasn't the vital organ he was concerned about right now. 

"Do not worry about me - if you are still cold, get closer to my back." 

_Why _did he have to suggest that? 

She'd wriggled closer and now he could feel her bush brushing against his buttocks as she 'spooned' him. 

_...place in a copper bowl which has been left in the light of a full moon..._

"What are you doing?" he asked, sharply. 

"Nothing." 

"You're wriggling." 

"I'm shivering." 

"You _cannot _be that cold!" Ye Gods! He was on fire here. 

"I am." 

She shivered again. 

And again. 

How the hell had he got himself into this situation? This was going to take all his Occlumency skills... 

He gave in and turned around. He stared over her head at the wall, concentrating on a stain on the brickwork as he wrapped his arms around her. 

_...then add three hairs from the throat of a fwooper bird..._

"Ooh!" she squeaked. 

He closed his eyes. Did he _need_ to enquire? 

"I apologise, but it's the body's natural reaction to being close to another. I assure you it is nothing to do with you personally." 

"Really?" 

"Really. Just an instinctive reaction." 

"An instinctive reaction?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh, that's a relief!" 

It was only then he realised with huge shock that he was actually disappointed to hear those words. There had obviously been a thought in the back of his mind that...perhaps he _wouldn't_ have to fight this all the way. 

"That must be what's happening to me, then," she said. 

His blood stopped in his veins. 

"S...sorry?" 

"My body's natural reaction to being close to another... 

_Wha..?_

"...only I'm suddenly very wet between my legs..." 

Hell have mercy! He hadn't expected this. 

"Yes," he managed to say through the constriction in his throat. "Just the body's natural reaction. Ignore it." 

"It's very difficult." 

"Try to sleep." 

"Especially with my breasts squashed up against you..." 

_...HEAT IN A MEDIUM CAULDRON FOR A MINIMUM OF FORTY MINUTES..._

"...almost as though they need to be..." 

"Hermione..." 

"..and then there's that throbbing..." 

"Will you be _silent_?" He could hear the desperation in his voice. 

"...in the pit of my belly..." 

"For pity's sake woman, are you _completely _naive?!" he cried, almost angrily. 

She looked up at him with big brown doe-eyes. 

"...as though I really, _really_...need you...to fuck me." 

He felt as though he'd been hit by a bolt of lightening. Complete shock and arousal swamped his body at hearing such a word...such a proposal...from _her _lips. He stared down at her and at once realised _he_ had been the naive one. She knew _exactly _what she was doing. 

It was too much for him - he hadn't exactly been a saint to begin with... 

He raised himself up and caught her waiting lips with his own. 

-


	8. If we are to die tonight

Overwhelmed by the reviews (and emotions) generated by that last chapter.

I had expected cries of OCC when Hermione uttered the 'f' word. Totally agree with you. Explaination in the following chapter.

For my regular readers, I shall just say that I think I'm usually more subtle than in this next chapter, but however I expressed it, it always seemed to end up this way. Hope it pleases:

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**Chapter Seven**

**If we are to die tonight**

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Somewhere between the hours of 1am-3am

She met him eagerly, willingly, surprisingly expertly, drawing him in to the most delicious sensations. His eyes flew open in surprise as her tongue came into his mouth before he'd had a chance to make that particular move. 

He had a brief glimpse of her eyes, closed in the passion of the kiss, causing him to moan as he closed his own eyes again and began drowning in the sweet, wonderful taste of her, caressing her tongue with his own, pushing hers back into her mouth so he could explore and taste her thoroughly. 

It felt so good when her arms came around his neck, collecting him to her, encouraging him to move across so that the top half of his body was over her. He noticed his hand trembling slightly as it glided up over her curves until he found one glorious rounded breast to stroke and caress - the nipple so hard and high he couldn't resist taking it between his fingers and playing with it. 

She gave a deep moan and writhed beneath him, pushing herself harder into his hand, and he responded by putting more pressure into his touch. 

Her hands were running through his hair, then over his shoulders, down his back, setting a trail of fire wherever they touched. As they ran underneath his body, he instinctively lifted his hips in order to give her reaching fingers access to... 

"No!" 

He rolled off her, breathing heavily, his fingers to the bridge of his nose. 

"What the _hell_ am I doing?" 

"I _think _we were about to have sex," she said, helpfully, sitting up. 

"No. No, this is wrong. We can't do this, it's...it's..." 

"Against the law for two consenting adults..." 

"We may be consenting adults, but you are my pupil. I am your teacher..._that _is against the rules." 

"Those rules might not exist in a few hours...and they definitely won't apply in a few months..." 

"Well they do at the moment!" he snapped, letting his frustration get the better of him and instantly regretting it. 

His response hung in the air between them for a second or two, then she sighed. 

"If _he _wins this could be the very last time you have sex, but - as you pointed out - it probably won't be _my_ last time and I'd rather like to have _one_ enjoyable experience to remember...with someone I _want_ it to be with, before I die." 

He looked at her and then sat up slowly to face her. 

"You...you don't have any other experience to remember?" 

She blushed deeply. 

"No." 

"The Gods in their heavens! What are you _thinking_? What was _I_ thinking...?" 

"I'm thinking that I don't want my first time to be by force with a Death Eater...I'd rather it was willingly with you." 

"And if Potter succeeds? What will you be thinking then?" 

He put the question to her as though playing a trump card. She regarded him for a moment, then lifted her chin defiantly, looking him straight in the eye as she replied, 

"That I'm glad my first time was with you. I want it to be with you, win or lose." 

Completely at a loss, he spluttered, 

"Why?" 

She smiled. 

"Are you totally naive, Professor?" 

"At this very moment, yes. And bewildered." He ran a hand over his face and into his hair before looking at her again. "You were just going to...without warning me? Do you think that was entirely fair?" 

She blushed deeper and lowered her eyes to the cloak. 

"I...I...didn't want you to think I didn't know..." 

He stared at her in disbelief. 

"You wanted to keep up the 'Miss Know-It-All' appearance, even _now?!"_

- 

Her embarrassment went deep. Had she made such a huge mistake? 

She kept looking down at the cloak, not knowing what to say next. 

There was another frightening crash against the door, enough to make it shudder for a moment. 

Hermione let out a scream and they instinctively clung to each other, both faces turned towards the door, fearful of who was on the other side. 

It took a few moments to realise that, once again, the door hadn't opened. No one was coming to get them. The battle was still being fought. 

Simultaneously they let out heavy sighs of relief. Hermione was trembling, although she couldn't be sure every shiver was her own... 

The side of her face was now against his chest, the hair there slightly coarse against her cheek; her arms were wrapped around him, clinging to his back. She had a close up view of the curves of his upper arm running across the end of her shoulder and round to her back. 

He was holding her tight and she could smell the primeval scent of sweat, fear and arousal that pervaded them both. It vaguely reminded her of something, but... 

She could have stayed there forever, revelling in the closeness of him, the contact with otherwise hidden flesh; feeling that as long as he was here with her, nothing bad could happen to her. 

Slowly, she raised her head to look at him and for a moment she saw in his eyes that he _had _been frightened like her. 

Was sex _really _the ultimate intimacy? How much more intimate to share the remaining hours before death. Were rules really that important now? 

"This could be the last night of our lives..." 

"I am acutely aware of that," he said, keeping his face close to hers; his arms tight around her. 

She gazed into eyes that once upon a time had sent icicles down her spine. Now they sent spears of fire through her body, inflaming the lust, fuelling the burning passion inside that made her need him, want him, almost to screaming point... 

She knew he was teetering on the edge of temptation. Surely no rules or etiquette should come between them - not if they were to die tonight... 

Moving her lips the tiny distance to his, she kissed him very softly, very virginally, for only a moment before looking back up into his eyes. 

"Please," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "don't let one of _them_ have this..." 

- 

He pushed his fingers into her hair as his eyes travelled her face. 

She moved her mouth close again and began nibbling his lip, flicking her tongue over it, moistening it, melting any resistance in him that remained. 

He moved to kiss her fully, his hand gliding round to the back of her head to pull her closer and support her as he lowered her back down onto the bed. 

Half over her, his hand stroked her flesh, the smooth thigh, the curve of her hip, the dip of her waist, until once again he reached the wonderful firm breast so eager for his touch. 

He moaned as her tongue flicked across the pulse as she kissed him on the neck, sending his senses reeling, feeling her push up into his caressing hand, urging him to touch her more. 

He trailed his mouth across her shoulder and down to kiss her breast, taking the gloriously hard nipple into his mouth and licking it, rolling it between his lips, grazing it with his teeth, his own excitement increasing at the little orgasmic noises she was making. 

Gently he pushed his knee between her legs and she began rocking herself against it, so, so wet. 

He kissed his way back to her mouth. She looked at him, her eyes so full of lust he was almost overwhelmed by the need to be inside her. This was his fantasy come true. They were here; it was real; she was spread out, naked, beneath him and wanting him; _begging_ him; but_ still_ he needed the final consent... 

"Are you sure..?" he whispered. 

"What more can I do to persuaded you?" she breathed into his ear. 

She wriggled beneath him so he was now wholly on top of her, her knees rising either side of him, capturing him between her legs. 

He felt a fresh surge of blood to his groin as her hand moved around to cup him and stroke him, guiding him to her. 

"Absolutely nothing," he gasped, amazed at the confidence of her touch. 

He closed his eyes as he began pushing in gently, feeling the inexplicable rush of male vanity at being the first to venture there. The conquering hero. The one she would remember for always. 

He breathed out heavily, a long, deep moan escaping him. There was only one thing more exciting than opening a virgin...and that would follow shortly after... 

...and as if all this pleasure were not enough, there was the wondrous, impossible miracle that Aphrodite was in his arms, desiring _him_ as much as he desired her. If they were to die tonight, what better memory to take with him? 

- 

She was nervous - of course she was. No matter how well prepared she thought she was, being entered for the first time was a shock. 

Her mother had told her the mechanics at the age of ten, but like a text book, the mechanics didn't explain the sexy bits. 

So she'd been reading erotic fiction, everything she could find, studying different techniques and how to do them; the powers of the tongue, the lips, the eyes. She'd even transfigured her toothbrush into a phallus so she could practice how to touch a man to the greatest effect. She refused to approach sex for the first time, whoever it was with, without feeling she knew what she was doing. 

She'd studied the methods of oral sex, never dreaming the mouth could be used in such a way; the different erogenous zones for men and women; and had been astounded to read that a dirty word spoken by a woman at the right moment could be so erotic to a man, let alone discovering for herself that it worked... 

She had prepared herself as thoroughly as she did for any of her lessons, confident she would be able to raise her hand in class and answer correctly; defying anyone to call her a dunce when the moment arrived. 

Oh! But the moment _had _arrived and suddenly she _did _feel unprepared. 

Her Professor, the one she'd been thinking dirty thoughts about day in day out, the one her pillow metamorphosed into at night as she hugged it, was lying between her thighs about to do what she'd imagined him doing so many times... 

She steeled herself as he came to her, feeling the first gentle nudge into her body and catching her breath as a stronger push made her jump with pain. 

He kissed her ear. 

"I'm sorry," he gasped. "I didn't mean to hurt you." 

"You didn't, not much...oh, please..." 

He gave a deep, surrendering growl as she pushed her hips into him, urging him on, closing her eyes and biting her lip as he moved in, stretching her more than was surely possible. How much more of him could there be?! 

Finally he stopped and looked at her, needing to know she was fine with this. 

She was panting with both the shock and the thrill of being so completely possessed by him. 

"It feels absolutely fantastic," she gasped, truthfully, and when he began moving over her, she moaned with delight as sensations she'd never imagined began building up inside her, relaxing her initial fear, easing his path. 

Never had she experienced such feelings. She was now way past anything she had managed to produce on her own. Desperately her mouth searched for his, and when they met, the kiss was as deep and delicious as his thrusts were becoming. 

Instinctively her hips began rocking to meet his own movements, his approval very apparent in the change in pressure of his kiss. She broke away to cry out as a wave of pleasure crashed over her. She dug her fingers into his back as noises she'd never made before issued from her mouth with each new, ever stronger wave. 

His own gasps heated her neck. His mouth to her throat, his deep, growling moans vibrating against her flesh, pushing her up into ecstasy; and just when she thought she couldn't possibly go any higher, she felt his release deep within her, sending her soaring to a shattering orgasm... 

------ 

Thank you to everyone who reviewed - including those who obviously had swallowed a bitter pill - hope this chapter provided the spoonful of sugar! 

Kerichi: What?! Nut to butt? Really? So that Air Force guy I got stranded with was just..._bastard!_ Sorry everyone. Hermione wasn't tricking Severus, it was this author's (BIG) mistake. 

Grill: When you review my stories I feel like a little off-Broadway actor who knows Meryl Streep is in the audience. LOL. 

May-Luna: Thanx. I would be happy for you to translate the story into French but perhaps you should wait to see if you like the ending?! 

Helena Oe: Madness sequel will be up as soon as I finish this story. I know it won't get many reviews, but as long as I have a reader, I'll post, because I really enjoy writing it. 

June: Yes to both and I blushed each time! 

Irish Man: Your review made me laugh out loud. Thanx 

A Fan: blown away! 

Szara and Jill: Goodness! I've been slapped! My answer is (and other authors will back me up here) that it is good Hollywood tradition to leave your readers panting for more...and as much as I love posting on this site, there's no way I'm gonna do it whilst lazing on a beach! 

And thank you SO much: Thousandl (lol) Kbluesmom Elora Nova Untamed Spirit Seagirl4ever Intelligent Witch A perfect Lie Kairi the Iced Rose Freedom isn't Free Oasis Blackmore cdkobasiuk Lynn Vanilla Kitty Kumiko ran The Great Green Leaf of Peril breziebear Something-or-other FemmeLoki Vickie 211 The Sexy Flower Melted Icicle Junella Lee74 Mr.Moosey Blackwater Arramous Tiffie101 Stargazer Starluver Tomigirl Potts Angeline Trinity Marquise Sportzgrl627 Really-A-Dopey-1 Miss3y Lettucequeen Q mouse


	9. One way or another

Thank you so much for all your reviews. Very much enjoy reading them. Glad you liked the previous chapter. Please note, this next chapter is the penultimate one. Thought you might like to be warned.

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**Chapter Nine**

**One way or another**

3am-4am:

She was beautiful. She was wondrous. She was unbelievable. 

The feel of her body tensing and shuddering in the throws of her climax was intoxicating. 

She was writhing beneath him, her nails digging into his back, crying out loudly and then sighing deeply as she began to come down. 

He was trembling as he lifted his head to kiss her, her face very pink, their bodies glistening with sweat. 

"Bravo! Bravo! Tell me, Severus, what do you do for an encore?" 

Hermione screamed and he leapt up as fast as humanly possible under the circumstances, turning to face the voice. 

No! No, this couldn't be! 

Lucius Malfoy stood, tall and menacing at the door, his wand pointing directly at them. Behind him, stood Nott and Crabbe, grinning letcherously at the sight that had met their eyes. 

Lucius walked into the cell, careful to take a wide arc around the bed, still pointing his wand. 

"So, you've discovered ways to pass the time whilst you've been skulking away in here." He moved his head to glance past Severus, who was shielding Hermione. "I do hope she was worth it - your final encounter." 

"It can't be you!" spluttered Hermione with a catch to her voice. "It can't be! Where's Harry?" 

"Potter is dead, along with all your other pathetic companions. The Dark Lord is triumphant - and is now anxious to settle old scores." 

He motioned to Nott and Crabbe. They marched in and grabbed Severus by the arms, pulling him roughly, towards the door. He struggled against them, but they had the advantage. 

"Nnnooo!" Hermione howled behind him. 

He turned his head to see her leap from the bed towards him. 

"Hermione!" he cried, as one of his captors put out a hand and pushed her in the face. 

"Stop!" 

At the sound of Malfoy's voice, both Death Eaters pulled up and looked at him. 

"I think we can take a little time over these two." He walked to the door and slammed it shut. "Put him over there," he indicated the far corner with his wand. 

Severus was dragged to the other side of the cell, the two Death Eaters holding his arms in iron grips behind his back, Nott's wand at his throat. 

Lucius' wand was pointed at Hermione. 

"You stay right where you are, or I shall kill him instantly." 

He turned to Severus, his lip curling in amusement, his eyes travelling disdainfully over his naked body. 

"Really, Severus, is that _all_ you could offer her? The poor thing must be frantic with frustration..._I said stay where you are!" _Without looking at her he pointed his wand again at Hermione as she began to move towards them. 

Lucius swivelled slowly on his heels to face her and Severus felt his insides shudder as he recognised the intent on Malfoy's face. 

"Lucius..." he said, his voice hoarse with the panic he was feeling for Hermione. 

Lucius moved towards Hermione and grabbed her hair, yanking her head up to face him. 

"I think we'll let your friend watch, hmmm? Oh, he might protest," he hissed to her ear, but looking at him. "but secretly, he'll enjoy it. He always used to." 

Severus struggled to release himself from his captors, putting all his strength into it, but he was no match for two. 

Lucius pulled Hermione back towards the bed. 

He could feel his panic rising, the desperate helplessness that he could do nothing to protect her. 

Then she looked at him, straight into his eyes. 

"It doesn't matter," she soothed, her face strong and brave. "It doesn't matter. Not now. Not after...us. He doesn't scare me." 

Oh, Gods! She _really_ didn't understand what was happening... 

"Leave her, Lucius, please...leave her, and I shall...I shall..." he let out a defeated sigh. "I shall _answer_ to you..." 

"Answer to me?" Lucius looked up as though for a moment interested, regarded him for a moment, but then smirked. "Not really a viable proposition, considering the Dark Lord's plans for you. Now, shall we break-in your little mare?" 

He pulled at Hermione again. She spun her head round and spat in his face, 

"Too late, you bastard. Severus has all ready been there." 

Lucius just laughed. 

"Lucius!" Severus was frantic. He couldn't let this happen, he couldn't. Wildly he struggled, giving his guards great difficulty in holding him as he watched Lucius push Hermione face down over the bedstead. 

"You think I want Severus Snape's leftovers?" He held her down as his fingers sliced between her buttocks. "You have other unexplored places, poppet..." 

She screamed. 

"Severus! Severus, help me, please..." 

"HERMIONE!" He yelled, as he struggled with all his being, his heart torn apart by her cries. "HERMIONE..." 

"It's OK. It's OK..." 

His head was spinning, pure panic assailed him, confusion reigned. Arms were around him, but they were no longer the thick, restraining arms of his captors; they were soft, feminine arms, and when he opened his eyes, her face was above his, close, concerned, beautiful... 

"Uhhhh...?" 

"It's OK," she whispered, stroking his face and looking deep into his eyes. "You were dreaming. It's OK." 

Dreaming? 

_All_ of it? Surely not _all?_

She was looking at him, her eyes soft and shining, and her expression...he'd never been on the receiving end of such tenderness. 

He looked back into her eyes, overwhelmed by the sense of relief that she was safe; that a victor hadn't yet emerged; and...he closed his eyes against it, but could not suppress the warmth of emotion that flooded his very being at the sight of her, so close and soft and still his. 

She held him to her, his head resting on her breast, and his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her gently but firmly, not wanting ever to let go. He'd been so scared for her; so scared of losing her. The emotions she evoked blinded him, causing him actually to draw breath to say something; but he drew back at the last moment. 

4am-5am:

What ever the dream had been, it hadn't been good. It has started with him murmuring and then tossing his head from side to side as though struggling against something; and then he'd called her name, pure panic in his voice... 

When eventually he awoke his eyes had a wild, frightened expression, waking from the nightmare like a small child. Her heart swelled at being the one allowed to hold him, rock him, comfort him until the bogie man was forgotten. 

She hadn't slept at all. How could she? Her mind had replayed over and over again what had happened between them. The way he had touched her; kissed her; brought her to such mind-blowing emotions - passion she'd never dreamed of. 

She'd watched him as he slept. Never had she dared to believe she would ever see him in this state. Her Potions Master; asleep and naked in bed with her; her first lover. 

Mmmmmmmm! 

Not a virgin any more. She'd lost it - and how! He had been wonderful. It hadn't hurt - well, not as much as she'd been led to believe it would. 

All the girls in her year knew that Lisa Turpin had been the first of them to lose her virginity - way back in the third year; in the Astronomy Tower with Leonard Flax, a fourth-year boy. Rumour had spread like wildfire and, as with Chinese whispers, the details had become more and more gory until poor Lisa it seemed, had been all but torn in half whilst writhing in agony. 

Then there had been a quick succession of girls falling for the charms of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang boys during the Tri-Wizard Tournament... 

...and so many girls talked about Draco Malfoy and his wandering hands that it had become almost an insult if he _hadn't_ tried it on. _She_ hadn't felt insulted though. She knew why he left her alone - he was scared of her. 

All in all, she hadn't heard one good word about how it felt, the first time. No wonder the nerves had built up. 

Now it was over; the shock had worn off, but she still felt breathless that the impossible had happened; he was here, cradled in her arms, and it had been lovely. 

She turned her face a little, kissed the top of his head and swallowed as a tear trickled from her eye. 

Soon it would be over and he would leave her; 

one way or another. 

-------------------------- 

Thousandl: I didn't dare leave it too long! 

JessiokaFroka - Wow to you, too. What praise! 

June - Mmmmm. That's given me an idea for a 'dirty weekend' story! 

Intelligent Witch - hope your cold is better. 

Kairi The Iced Rose - I can't remember if Sev's a virgin, but there's an extremely good story on Schnoogle called 'Lost' by Venus DeMilo, where Hermione goes back (via timeturner) to when Sev's 17 and they fall in love. It's well worth a read. 

Grill - I mean, Meryl, Darling. Shucks! Your reviews mean a lot to me. 

Alexandria - I'm glad you enjoyed the humour. 

The-Sexy-Flower - I forgot to slash? That is SO unlike me! Sorry! 

Breziebear - My writing made you take a shower? God, I'm so PROUD! 

Junella - clever you for guessing ahead! 

FemmeLoki - What are you THINKING woman? I said Hermione used the phallus for practicing TOUCH, not....ewwww! I need tea now.... 

Helena Oe - strokes Helena's brow soothingly there, there. You'll find out soon. 

Irish Man - absolutely. 

Kerichi - yes, she'll probably get an 'O' 

Aries1 - Thank you. I'm walking on sunshine! 

and thank you also:Kbluesmom ShadowVixen90 Melted-Icicle Qmouse Oasis Blackmore Lee74 Joy Crux Cdkobasiuk Vickie211 lollipop Mystical fairy-05 Phantom-Blue-Ink Becca - lots of love, Severusgirl xxxxx


	10. Straight on till morning

Thank you, thank you for all your reviews.  I love them all and am so grateful that you take time to post them.

Well, here we are at the conclusion of the story.  I've really enjoyed writing the whole thing.  Thank you for reading and reviewing.  My new story with Snape and my own character has now started. (Madness II)  I know OC stories are not popular, but I'd be really, really grateful if you popped along and read the first chapter and let me know what you think.  (If you like my style - which some of you have said - you might like the story).  I also have an idea for a Snape/Hermione Christmas one-off.  Post near the time.

btw:  I haven't mis-spelt 'manoeuvred' - it's how us Brits spell it!

enjoy.

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**Chapter Ten**

**Straight on till morning**

**5am**

How had he, Severus Snape, reached this point?

Until yesterday she had been an annoying fancy, an inconvenient weakness that had somehow wormed its way through his defences, distracting him whenever he saw her in the day; the cause of his private indulgences at night.

Now he was enclosed in the arms of this woman, feeling comforted, cared for; loved, almost. Something he had not experienced since a small child, and rarely then.

It felt...good.

Exceptionally good.

He lay with his head to her breast, listening to her heart beat, watching her skin rise and fall with each breath.

Even with the danger, he could think of no other place he'd rather be than lying within the warm circle she had created around him.

How the Gods must be laughing - to have saved up all this tender loving care until the last remaining hours of his life...

He swallowed.

Not just the care he was receiving, but what he wanted to give...

If they got out of here alive...

_What?_

_What, Severus? What are you planning to do? Take her back to school and ensconce her in your quarters? Be her teacher by day and her lover by night?_ _The Ministry would surely approve!_

But...

How could he possibly let her go?

Now he had experienced this, someone actually caring about him; someone who made him feel...as though he wanted to love...

**6am**

"Professor..?" she whispered.

He raised his head to look at her. He had a very strange expression on his face.

"How can you even _think_ of addressing me so?" He said, gently, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

She felt herself blush.

"What else...I don't know..."

"Severus. My name is Severus."

"I know but...oh, I couldn't possibly..."

"Hermione, under the circumstances..."

"Yes, but that's just it, isn't it...under the circumstances. We're out of context, aren't we. Everything is different 'under the circumstances'. If we get back to school, back to normal life - you're going to hate me for what happened here tonight."

He looked at her for a moment and then shifted so their eyes were on the same level.

"Is that how you expect your Potions Master to react?"

"Well...yes," she said, reasonably.

He looked away and nodded.

"And the man you have seen tonight - how might he react?"

She looked at him.

The man she had seen tonight had just enhanced the feelings she had for the original one. Her Potions Master was cruel, rude, sour, and yet she had felt this unexplained attraction to him that filled her head with sexy thoughts and invaded her nights with the sweetest dreams...

It had been just some kind of animal attraction but,

Oh! The man tonight!

He had softened her heart, stirred her emotions, made her feel that to lose him would kill something inside forever. If only...

"But you're _not_ the man I've seen tonight. Don't you see, you're a different person imprisoned in here..."

He sighed deeply and looked at her with what looked like regret.

"Yes, I do see," he said quietly. "I apologise, Hermione. I have been unforgivably irresponsible. I should have realised that however much you thought you wanted this to happen, that of course you would regret..."

"I don't regret anything that's happened between us..." she said, quickly.

"But you will. When _you_ stop being this different person and return to being Hermione Granger. It is _you_ who will hate_ me_. Your desire was for tonight and tonight only..."

"Um...."

She played with the edge of the cloak. She had interrupted him and he was waiting to hear why. Her heart was pounding. She was sure she shouldn't tell him this, but...

"Um...that's not strictly true."

"I beg your pardon?"

She felt her cheeks go hot again.

"The truth is...I've been...thinking about you... before tonight...in..._that_ way..."

Oh God, she'd said too much. Now she'd made a fool of herself. Make it better...make it better!

"...but of course I realise we only ended up having sex because we've been imprisoned together. It would never have happened otherwise, would it?"

"No. It would never have happened..."

Her heart dropped, even though she'd known that would be his answer.

"...but I had, for a long time, wished that it might."

It took a few moments for his words to make sense to her. She looked at him in astonishment. His black eyes looking gently into hers.

Then suddenly she remembered why the smell of sweat and arousal had been vaguely familiar to her - she'd been aware of a diluted version when her hair had caught on his button during that Potions class.

He had been as flustered and as turned-on as she!

"Oh!" she breathed.

He moved his head closer and kissed her, so softly, so slowly, his hand moving to her back to pull her body closer, without any suggestion that anything more was expected.

"Oh, dear," she said with a smile as they stopped, their heads still touching. "This is going to be awkward back at school, isn't it?"

"Somewhat."

"Only for a few months, and then I shall have left."

"So shall I."

"Huh?" She looked at him, shocked.

"If Potter wins this battle, I shall be free to leave Hogwarts. I will no longer have to walk in the shadows for the sake of my life; no longer have to masquerade as a teacher..."

"Is that what you've been doing all these years?"

"The Headmaster invited me to stay at Hogwarts and help with the campaign against the Dark Lord. There had to be a reason for my being there, so I became the Potions Master..."

"But you wanted Defence Against the Dark Arts, didn't you? Why didn't Professor Dumbledore..?"

"I requested that appointment, but he merely said 'I think we'll let you teach Potions and see how you get along there'. It appears I 'got along' too well and he was reluctant to move me."

"What will you do instead?"

He frowned.

"I have no idea. I have spent my whole adult life fighting this battle from one side or another. I have to admit, after all these years, freedom seems a little daunting..."

She couldn't help herself. She stopped his words with her lips, shifting her body even closer to him, feeling her eyes prickling with tears.

**7am**

"Not that I mind in the least," he murmured in her ear, "But was there a reason for that sudden interruption to my musings?"

"You looked so...lost and vulnerable...I...I..."

She looked at him, a strange expression on her face, as though she had just seen the answer to a very obvious puzzle. Her eyes were shining with moisture and even as he watched, a tear spilled over her eyelashes.

For the second time that night he felt he'd been hit by a bolt of lightening...

"Listen," he heard her whisper through the pounding of blood in his ears. "If _he_ wins, they'll come for us and it will be too late to tell you..."

He put trembling fingers to her mouth.

"Don't," he said, suddenly finding it difficult to breath, his logical mind frantically demanding to know what was going on here? What the _hell_ was going on..?

She looked at him, surprised.

"You don't know what I was going to say."

"Yes I do," he said shakily. He looked at her and passed his tongue nervously over his bottom lip as he realised, for the first time ever, he was reacting to his heart rather than his mind - and he didn't care. "Yes...I do. Before it's too late...you were going to say..." he bent towards her and whispered in her ear.

He kissed his way across her face, across her eyelids...and whispered it again.

He manoeuvred himself on top of her, and as his lips hovered above hers, he looked into her eyes and whispered it once more, until her kiss, yet again, silenced his voice.

Neither noticed the sky through the window flare gold.

**8am**

He was weary. Oh, so weary. He was too old for this any more. He thought that perhaps the time had come to join his friend, Nicholas Flamell. However for the moment, duty called.

Harry had fought a brave fight. He had exceeded even Dumbledore's expectations. Tom Riddle and the being that was Voldemort had been destroyed, and now the wizard world was free at last.

There had been losses, a great many. All had grieved him, but some had broken his heart...

Now all he had to do was release those few who had been taken prisoner and held in Azkaban.

Dumbledore shuffled down the corridors, occasionally having to lean against the wall for support as he looked for those cells that held allies.

He would really like to settle down in front of the fire with a simple cup of tea and a chat with...oh, of course...how could he have forgotten all ready that she was...

He wiped a tear from his eye and his hand reached to the lock of the next cell.

Then something made him hesitate.

He glanced at the door and instantly knew who was on the other side.

He smiled a knowing smile and that sense, the one so powerful it might be called his 'seventh sense', awoke.

"I wondered when you would eventually realise it for yourself, Severus," he said quietly.

He raised his finger and drew an invisible cross on the door. He then charmed it, so the door could only be opened from the inside, and shuffled on.

Inside the cell, Hermione and Severus were asleep, entangled with each other.

Hermione snuggled up to his body as the sunlight streamed in through the little window at the top of the cell, warming the room as it did. Slowly her eyes fluttered open after a night of sex and sleep, to find him in bed next to her.

She leaned towards him and kissed him, delighting when he responded, sleepily at first, but gradually building in passion.

Severus had never woken to such a tender kiss. He kept his eyes shut and enjoyed the sensation, feeling this exquisite creature moving her body against his own and the kiss building in passion.

He moaned with delight as Aphrodite's hand moved down to stroke him with an expertise way beyond her years and experience...

On the door on the inside of the cell, clearly visible for when they cared to look away from each other, was the glowing crest of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Of freedom.

**The end**

-----------------------------------

Dumbledore's reaction to Snape requesting the DADA job is taken from an actual quote from JK Rowling.

Thousandl: Of course you can hope.  Have I ever let you down? lol.

Charmed Piper:  I tried to send you an e mail with the web address for the story, but it was returned.  Send me an email and I'll forward the address.

May-Luna:  Hope the ending is to your liking. I had no idea you were reading Madness.  No - killing Andi would be difficult (especially as the story is seen from her point of view!).  Sequel has begun - please, please review)

JessiokaFroka: Nope - sorry you're just going to imagine what that might mean (I have my own ideas!)

Grill:  I didn't type those three little words, did you notice?  A tribute to you!

Vickie211:  thanks for a lovely review

Rose of the Forgotten: I had a feeling I was being watched!

Celes: Haven't you reviewed something else of mine?  Your name is familiar.  Yes, some authors do 'Americanize' HP, but it's difficult to write out of your own accent - you should see my American!

Random Reviewer:  I didn't get 'Poppet' from Pirates OtheC, but I do remember the line.  I just thought Lucius using a sweet word before the awful crime was a disgusting contrast.

ShadowVixen90: Severus in my arms _anyhow_! No nightmare needed.

billiejoe:  What?! And spoil all the fun?!

edwardiana: Don't know what Isordil is - perhaps smelling-sorts?!

Mr.Moosey:  If I had taken it a moment further, we'd have ventured into NC17 territory and I'd have been kicked off the board.  Another time, another place, perhaps!?

Kerichi:  You can always rely on Lucius to provide the bad bits.

and very many thanks to everyone who ever reviewed: topps; randomgurlie07; Dendara; mysticalfairy05; Calafalas; Jill;the-sexy-flower; cdkobasiuk; Helena Oe (lol); Blue furry elf; Junella; Grey;Snape-ette; June; Intelligent Witch; JoyCrux; Aries1 (thanx for reviewing Madness); Qmouse.  love to all. 


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